Blueberries
by Just Mosie
Summary: "Mommy, does Jesus like blueberries?" - A oneshot where Lisbon celebrates Mother's Day with her precocious daughter.


**Hi, everyone! No, I have not forgotten about "Unchaste," (I have been working on it!) but I decided that I ought to write this quick little oneshot to get it out of my brain! It is centered around Mother's Day, just a fair warning. And it's full of fluff to an extent! **

**Disclaimer: No, I don't own The Mentalist. **

Blueberries

**May 10, 2009**

When Teresa Lisbon first opened her eyes, the first thing that she noticed was the sun filtering in through the half-open blinds. Blinking the sleep out of her eyes and rolling over onto her back to push the hair out of her face, Lisbon registered the smell of pancakes coming from the kitchen.

Smiling, she threw back the covers and moved into a sitting position, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. With one final yawn, she stood from the bed and made her way out of her room. She took a moment to look into the room adjacent to hers, seeing that the little light on the end table was on and the covers in disarray. Her smile only grew as she walked on and leaned onto the railing. Looking down, she could see the faint glow of the TV as the morning cartoons softly played.

"Rosie?"

She heard a little scuffling from downstairs. "Not yet, Mommy!"

Lisbon chuckled and started making her way down the stairs. Once she arrived at the last step, she put her hands over her eyes lightly due to not wanting to step onto a wayward toy and continued on towards the kitchen.

"Are those pancakes that I smell?" she asked, a smile evident on her face.

"No!" the little girl said defensively as the toaster oven beeped.

Smiling even more, she peeked through the cracks in her hands and watched as the little girl jumped onto the chair she'd pulled up to the counter and opened up the little door. With a pair of mits, she carefully pulled out the three pancakes and set them on a small plastic plate. Then she carefully picked up the maple syrup (with two hands!) and poured it over the food.

Lisbon watched as her little girl happily set the syrup down and picked up the plate, turning to her mother and carried to the food to her. Re-covering up her eyes, Lisbon smiled. Soon after, she heard the refrigerator open and the rustling noise of a little plastic crate. She heard the little crate open followed by the telltale sign that something was being placed over the pancakes.

Blueberries, most likely.

"You peeked, Mommy," Rosie accused.

Lisbon shook her head. "No." On purpose, she drew out the reply.

"Are you sure?"

"One hundred percent."

There seemed to be a moment where Rosie appeared to be mulling over her mother's answer, but accepted the answer and placed the plastic plate in front of Lisbon. "You can peek now, Mommy."

Pulling the hands away from her eyes, Lisbon looked down and smiled. Yes, despite the fact that the blueberry-covered pancakes were a bit too crispy and currently being drowned in the maple syrup, it only made her heart grow for her daughter more.

"Oh, sweetie, come here." Rosie ran into her mother's arms and squeezed her tight, Lisbon returning the favour. "Thank you so much for making me breakfast," she said and kissed Rosie's head.

"Happy Mother's Day, Mommy," Rosie said.

Unwrapping her arms around her daughter, Lisbon tried to smooth the hair from Rosie's face when she came in contact with a superfluous amount of…syrup. Chuckling, she kissed Rosie's forehead and walked over to the sink.

"Did I do something bad?"

"No, sweetie, you did everything right," Lisbon told her as she wetted a paper towel and coming over to her child. "But I think you may need a bath after breakfast."

Rosie planted her hands on her hips and furrowed her little brow. "Why?" she asked stubbornly.

"Because you got maple syrup all over you." Lisbon started to dab the moist towel on Rosie's cheek, getting rid of the excess syrup and moved it to her hair. Grimacing, Lisbon knew that Rosie definitely needed a bath before they were to leave for church.

Huffing and crossing her arms over her little chest, Rosie looked impatient as her mother continued to try and work on her hair. It wasn't straight, which meant that it was harder to get sticky solutions out of it. The curls were another reason why Lisbon usually pulled Rosie's hair back, especially whilst cooking.

"Syrup's sticky," the small girl agreed.

Giving up on pulling the small strands of apart, Lisbon leaned back down. "Well, it's bath time."

Rosie moaned. "Elizabeth," Lisbon warned, using her daughter's actual given name.

"But I'm all dressed!" she protested.

Lisbon couldn't help but smile at her daughter then. Looking down, she saw that Rosie was, in fact, dressed albeit clumsily for church. And of course, there was syrup on her jade dress as well.

"Why don't you wear your Easter dress?"

Once again, Rosie appeared to be thinking this over. She rarely was allowed to wear her Easter dresses after the actual holiday due to Lisbon fearing that she would mess them up (she liked to run around with the boys). Appearing to accept this compromise, Rosie nodded her head in agreement.

"Okay, I will take a bath. But eat them first!"

Giving her daughter a smile and a quick kiss to the cheek, Lisbon began to cut into her breakfast. On the chair opposite her, Rosie scrambled into her chair (with a slight booster) and started to eat her own soggy cereal. For some odd reason, Rosie liked soggy cereal more than when it was freshly crispy. She usually said that "hurt her teeth" and that the "tooth fairy told her not to."

* * *

She knew this would happen, Lisbon thought when she looked up at the little girl currently sitting on the bench before her as she cleaned the dirt and mulch from her shoes. Like she had predicted, Rosie had decided that she wanted to chase the little boys in her Sunday school class and get covered in dirt. And honestly, it was everywhere. On her face, on her hands, under her fingernails, and imprinted into her dress. The dry cleaner will no doubt have a heart attack when he sees Rosie's Easter dress.

This was why the nice dresses were reserved for parties where no dirt or were involved.

"Are you mad, Mommy?" the little girl asked innocently.

Lisbon shook her head. "No, I'm not mad."

"Okay," Rosie said. "Mommy?"

"Mmhm?"

"Why don't you make pancakes for your mommy?"

It was an innocent question, but it still made Lisbon stop pulling a twig out of her daughter's Mary Jane's. Rosie knew that her grandmother was "with Jesus," but she continued to ask questions like this from time to time. The last time she had asked this, however, was last October during the day at her school where grandparents came. Instead, thankfully, Minelli came.

Lisbon let out a shaky breath. "Because she's with Jesus."

"Does Jesus like pancakes? You could make him pancakes, Mommy."

Lisbon smiled and started to push the shoe on her daughter's foot. "Maybe next year."

"But Jesus isn't a mommy, Mommy! Make them on Christmas!"

"With blueberries?"

"Yeah!"

Chuckling and strapping on the shoe, Lisbon started on the next one. Her daughter had a certain affinity for blueberries when accompanied by carbohydrates, much like her father. And Lisbon looked upwards to thank God for keeping Rosie's "where is my daddy?" questions at bay.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Does Jesus like blueberries?"

**Love, hate, or just like? Please let me know! (Gently, please, if you hated it!)**


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